


Just Another Day at the Office

by thellamaofthesouth



Category: Psych
Genre: Angst, Bomb threat, Gen, Hostage Situation, Random Villain to be named later, Santa Barbara Police Department, Shawn's secret revealed, Update-Random Villain has a name now
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-03
Updated: 2018-10-20
Packaged: 2019-02-27 17:09:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13252773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thellamaofthesouth/pseuds/thellamaofthesouth
Summary: It's just a normal day in Santa Barbara, when a man threatens to bomb to SBPD. The only way to stop him is if Shawn goes to talk to him.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic.

_Santa Barbara Police Department, Main Floor ___

It was a warm day in Santa Barbara, the sun was shining, the birds were out. One wouldn’t suspect that this day would change everything. 

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“Happy birthday to you,” the officers sang in unison. Much to Lassiter’s disapproval, Juliet had arranged a small celebration after learning that it happened to be Shawn’s birthday. Normally, the Chief wouldn’t have allowed such an affair to happen, after all it is a police station, however, it had been a slow couple of days, and a little cake never really hurt anyone. 

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“Guys, I’m honored, really, I don’t know what to say,” for once the “psychic” detective was being truthful. He really never did celebrate his birthday, in fact he had forgotten it was even coming up, and he was slightly embarrassed at the whole thing. 

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It took him awhile to both, a, escape from Buzz, and b, locate Juliet, but eventually he found her and Lassiter by their desks, looking over some paperwork. “Jules! Hey, what’re you working on?” 

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“Nothing much, Carlton and I just had some leftover paperwork to fill out from our last case. How are you enjoying the party?” 

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“It’s great,but you really didn’t need to…” Just as he was about to continue, a voice came in over the station’s rarely used speaker system. 

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_“Attention all, I would like to inform you all that there is a bomb in the building. Now, before you go and try to call the bomb squad, or alert anyone outside of this building, let it be known that I have someone outside monitoring your phones, and controlling your security cameras. If I receive word of anything funny from him, I will not hesitate to remove this place from existence. Luckily for you, there is an easy way out of this. I would like to speak to Shawn Spencer. He has ten minutes to make his way down to your interrogation room, alone. ” ___

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As quickly as it came, the voice was gone. For a brief moment in time, everyone seemed to be frozen. No one moved or said anything. It was Jules that interrupted the silence.

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“Shawn, did you recognize that voice? Do you have any idea who that is?” To the average person, she would have appeared calm, but Shawn knew her better than that. He could see that she was terrified. 

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“No, I have no idea who it was, but I’m going down there.” There was no way in hell he would all these people, mostly his friends, die because of him. 

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“Wait, we can’t let you go down there, at least not until we’ve looked around this place. There has to be some kind of clue that will tell us who we’re dealing with. Carlton has already contacted our cyber division and they’re trying to figure out where this is all coming from.” 

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However, eight minutes came and went, and they were no closer to finding anything. Shawn knew that Jules would never let him go down there by himself, hell half the people here wouldn’t, but he couldn’t risk letting everyone he cared about die. So, he waited. He waited for no one to be paying attention and slipped his way downstairs towards the interrogation room. He had walked this way many times before, sometimes to help solve crimes, and sometimes to be accused of them himself, but this time he had a bad feeling.

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They had found nothing. It had been almost ten minutes and they had nothing. Carlton couldn’t help but feel as if they were missing something big, something that was right in front of them this whole time. Time was almost up, and if they didn’t think of something soon they were going to have to send Spencer down there by himself. As much as Lassiter disliked the guy, sacrificing him to an unknown bad guy seemed a bit much. Speaking of the idiot, where was he. 

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Just as the thought entered his head, the tv in the corner of the room came to life. On the screen was Spencer and an older English man. The man was sitting at on side of the table with papers cluttered around him. 

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“Ah, Mister Spencer, welcome welcome. Please, have a seat.” On screen, the man waved towards the chair on the other side across from him. Shawn hesitantly moved toward the seat, but did not sit. 

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“You know there are easier ways to get my autograph. Seems a bit unfair that you know everything about me, and I nothing about you.” 

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“Ah, well you see Mister Spencer, I need your help. Please do sit.” Cautiously, Shawn took a seat across from the man. “You see, a friend of mine was murdered some time ago, long before you start consulting here. I wish for your assistance solving this heinous crime.”

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“So why come to here and threaten to destroy the place? Why not just go to the police in the first place?”

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“Because my boy, the police are idiots. They would never solve this, they would just allow it to be covered in bureaucratic tape. In fact, they ruled it a suicide, but I know better. You, you are different.” Without elaborating, the man pushed several papers in front of Shawn. “Look at these, tell me what you see.”

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The detectives watched the screen as Shawn studied the papers. It seemed hopeless, Shawn was not a detective and if this guy didn’t trust the police to solve murder, than neither could Shawn. Psychic or not, it would take a lot to get him out of this.

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“I’m getting something, I’m see a man. He, he looks angry. He wants-”  
“No, Mister Spencer, we both know very well that you are not a psychic. Either you tell me what I need to know, you prove to me that you know what you are doing, or your friends die.”

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The detectives could see Shawn hesitating. What did this guy want from him, he wasn’t a detective. How could he expect him to do this? However, Shawn then started to speak.

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“Fine, it was this guy,” Shawn said indicating to something on the paper, “he was the only one with a probable motive. With this guy dead, he stood to triple his assets. Also, if you look here you can see that the bookcase is covered in dust, except for this. This appears to be the same kind of gun that was used to kill your friend. The case it’s in also has some residue on the sides that indicates…”

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The detectives stared at the screen in disbelief. Just by looking at these old photos and write-ups, Shawn was able to solve a case that police had failed to solve twenty years prior. While impressed by his reasoning, they were also quickly realizing that their resident psychic may very well not be what they had thought.

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“That will do, thank you very much Mister Spencer.” With that the man move to collect the papers. He leaned down and picked up a briefcase. Just as he opened the lid, he quickly drew a gun. He pointed straight at Shawn’s head, just as the video cut out.

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	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise! I'm back with another chapter. Honestly, I thought I was going to abandon this work, but after giving it a second look, I decided to keep going. Let me know what you think.

_Santa Barbara Police Department, Interrogation Room_

“Now, Mr. Spencer, I’m afraid this is when you die,” the older man said, cocking the gun. Shawn could not die this way, for one his pineapple upside down cake was still in his easy bake oven. He’d been waiting four days for that thing to cook through, it would be a crime to not eat it. 

“Woah, woah, woah, slow down. You can’t kill me, not yet,” he was bargaining now, betting his life that this man would be as stupid as the rest of villains he had fought. 

“Mr. Spencer, please don’t try and talk me out of this, you are going to die. You cannot stop that.” Shit, he had to think of something fast, god dammit, wasn’t there some stupid lesson his father taught him as a kid that could help him. Think, Spencer, think. It wasn’t all counting hats and getting shoved into trunks, what else did he tell you? 

Bingo. 

_The Spencer Residence, Years Earlier_

“Now, Shawn, what do you do if a man is holding you hostage?” Henry asked, as if it were a basic question. How should he know, he was just a kid. Besides, he didn’t even want to be a cop, and if he wasn’t gonna be a cop when was he ever gonna be held hostage? 

“Kick him in the shins and run for it,” he joked, figuring if he gave a weak attempt his father might just give him the answer and let him go. 

“Shawn, this is serious, what would you do?” Damn, he wasn’t getting away easy this time. 

“I would try to escape when he wasn’t paying attention, find a phone, and call the cops.” 

“Better, but no. A good kidnapper isn’t going to be that easy to escape, Shawn. Every kidnapper wants something, money, revenge, you have to use that against them. Tempt them with more of what they came for, buy the police time to find you. Running will only get you shot.” 

_Santa Barbara Police Department, Interrogation Room_

______“Wait! Why are you doing this? You want me to believe you’d come all the way down here, in your fancy suit, with your fancy briefcase, just to get me to solve this case and then murder me. There’s more to this story and we both know it, what do you really want?” He was getting somewhere now. The man had lowered his gun slightly. For just a moment, the man’s face had showed the rage it held under the calm exterior._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Well, if you really must know, Mr. Spencer, my name is Donovan Cole. My son was, as you just helped to prove, murdered thirty years ago. I never saw justice because the police ruled it as a suicide. But the officer working the case was no ordinary officer, no, it was none other than your father. I tried telling the police that they must have made some mistake, that my son would never have killed himself, but no one dare go against the great Spencer. I spent years trying to prove that my son was murdered to no avail. I became a joke, a laughing stock. Then one day, what do I see in the paper? Shawn Spencer, son of the one and only Henry Spencer, solves crime with his sidekick Bruton Gaster. Poor Guster, they never do get his name right. As I was saying though, I saw this and I could not believe my eyes. It was a gift sent down from the heavens.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“Now, I needed to wait some time before I set my plan into motion. I needed to see if you were just as good as your father had once been. So I waited. Once you had proven yourself, I knew that I could finally get my revenge. I could use you to prove your father wrong. I could you force you to solve the case. Meanwhile, I would show the whole department that you were a fraud, bringing shame to you and your family name. Then, after all was said and done, I would kill you. A son for a son.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“But why here, in a building full of police officers?” Shawn question. He had him where he wanted him now, all he needed to do was wait for the right moment to put his plan into action._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Why here? Well that is simple. I want to die. I no longer care for living, it has grown tedious with the years as old age has not been kind to me. The last thing I needed to do was get my revenge, and then I could die, so what better place than here? I prove my son was murdered, I kill you, and then I pretend to set off the bombs, getting myself shot in the process.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______Now, he had him where he wanted him, now he just needed to bait the hook._ _ _ _ _ _

______“But what if you could have more?” God, he hoped this worked._ _ _ _ _ _

______“What do you mean?” Yes, it was working. Now all he had to do was reel him in._ _ _ _ _ _

______“I know you tapped into the camera and showed everyone upstairs what I just did. Why not have them bring my father here. Bring him here, and then show them you killing me. Then it’s not just son for a son. It’s making him live the agony that you lived through these past years all at once, and you get to see it before you die.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“You know, I like the way you think.”_ _ _ _ _ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact-I used a random name generator for the bad guy. I had it set to give me English sounding names, thinking I would get some generic names like Smith or Johnson. No. I got the weirdest names. I think my favorite had to be Tibby Strange.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's been a while.

_Santa Barbara Police Department, Main Floor_

“Alright people, I want to know everything about this man. Who is he, where is he from, what was his first dog’s name, anything you can find on this man, and I want it on my desk in ten.” Carlton was torn on whether to feel elated or enraged. On the one hand, they finally had proof that Spencer wasn’t a psychic. On the other hand, that idiot had walked straight into a trap and could very well get himself killed. 

The station was a flurry of activity. Officers were everywhere making calls, searching databases, and scouring even inch of the station desperately trying to find a clue as to what was going on. 

“How long until the bomb squad arrives?” Jules commanded. Her face was cool and stern, but it only served to loosely mask the terror she felt inside. Shawn had really done it this time.

“They’re still thirty minutes out, they had to deal with a call up in Ventura, and the highway is backed up.”

“ Dammit, McNab, get me the-,” Lassiter was cut short when the speaker crackled to life once more.

_Hello once more. I’d like to inform you all that your precious psychic, though that word may be a stretch, is alive and well. In order to keep it that way, you must bring Henry Spencer here. Once he arrives, call down to the interrogation room, let it ring four times and hang up. Oh, and do also bring the sidekick here too.” ___

__The moment of silence that followed this announcement was far shorter than the last. Soon after the man spoke, there was an uproar among the officers._ _

__“We can’t risk the lives of two civilians.”_ _

__“Henry is hardly a civilian, retired or not he’s a cop through and through.”_ _

__“But what about Guster? He gets word of this and he’ll be here for sure and that’s one more body on our hands if things go south.”_ _

__Several more moments of debate followed this before Carlton had had enough._ _

__“Enough! McNab, call Henry. Do not call Guster. They rest of you, we have work to do.”_ _

_The Spencer Residence ___

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____“Where the hell is that kid? I know he’s always late, but this might just be a new record.” Henry was beginning to grow impatient. He knew his son well enough to know that at least part of this was for show, but at this point it was growing old._ _ _ _

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____“I don’t know, maybe he’s still at the station. I’ll call Jules.” Unlike Henry, Gus wasn’t overly annoyed at the whole situation. Maybe he had just been spending too much time with Shawn, but this wasn’t even really that late._ _ _ _

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____Before either of the two men could do anything, Henry’s phone started to ring._ _ _ _

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____“I swear this better be Shawn,” he said picking up the phone. “Hello? What? What the hell do you mean a bomb? Alright, I’ll be there in ten.”_ _ _ _

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____“What was that?”_ _ _ _

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____“Gus, get your coat, Shawn’s in trouble.”_ _ _ _

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me writing this chapter: "They had a call in...in... What are cities in California? Why is California shaped like this? Why are there no major cities on google maps that are semi-close to Santa Barbara? What is life?
> 
> Also, more to come. Hopefully soon, but having an exam every week doesn't exactly leave room for writing.


End file.
